Dry: 100 Word Challenge
by Rachel Creager Ireland
For as long as she could remember, drought. Hot sun so bright she had to squint even to look down at the gray road. The old people talked of wetter times, when things grew and the whole horizon was green, the creeks overflowed and the rain turned the road into a river. She tried to imagine water falling in sheets, or as chunks of ice. But it was too far beyond all she’d known, sky the color of faded denim; plants that sprouted and died; mirages shimmering, taunting, in the distance on the parched pavement of the endless simmering road, flat and hard as a creek gone dry.
Thanks to julia’s place for inspiration. Check out the other flash fiction on her blog.